I see Serena comparing dresses and she’s obviously isn’t liking hers very much when everyone gushes about Guilia’s dress, including her mother, Ilaria. In fact, for all Ilaria’s bitchiness, she has been a dream the entire wedding. She even backed ten dozen biscuits and 4 cakes just because she knows Guilia likes her cakes. I want to believe her niceness is real, I really do but I can’t.
“You look beautiful too Serena.” She beams at me and I wink before I grab my phone from the passage table and begin to walk down before my sister. The amount of people in our entrance hall is an easy sixty. From our old Zia Irene to our Uncle Thomas, and Capo Marcello standing next to Nicole, they were all here, seeing their not so virgin bride walking down the stairs before she gets to the car.
Deno is waiting downstairs, looking exceptionally neat in a tuxedo.
Our house is packed and it feels like a funeral the way everyone is glaring at me. It is almost like they all know my secrets like they can see I am hiding something or someone.
I know that is not possible. The phone in my hand vibrates at that moment. A reminder of that secret and what I now have to do.
A lot can happen in a few months, including losing your virginity to a man you have no intention of marrying. And My father is standing downstairs waiting to give my sister to the man I once thought I would marry.
Slow steps, one at a time, down I go, people whisper as I finally reach the bottom stairs.
After a quick, run and greet as my sister’s maid of honor, we take a half-hour to get to the Catholic Church.
Walking inside, I see Leonardo standing next to Marco and Deno by the alter, waiting with the Priest. For some insane reason, the news I heard this morning pops in my head. The shootout at the docks about 2 days ago, was now the new talk of Seattle, they were calling it gang wars, blaming the Mexicans and I’m sure that is what Marco and Deno wanted to happen. Then again, I did stroke his coat when I practically told him it was the Outfit who killed his men.
I don't need to wonder about the extent of Marco’s crimes. I already know, and that is the reason the thoughts of us together, his naked body on top of mine, the taste of his lips as he kissed me with such abandoned play in my head and I find the courage not to go to him and beg him to forgive me.
In this moment I am strong enough. My attention is given to Leonardo who looks striking, with his now short-cropped hair and linen white suit and blue tie waiting next to his brothers’ looking every bit the nervous groom. My sister has grown fond of him. But now and again I still catch her looking at me like she needs me to give her permission. She has never needed my permission. My father is the only person my sister needs permission from and he has taken that away from her.
These last few days I am finding it very hard to believe that Papa is better than the other men but as I look at him enter the Church with Ilaria, like all these Italian Made-Men with their big rings and so much power, I'm finding it very hard to convince myself that my Papa is the man I have believed him to be, or am I blinded by the idea of better?
"Aliyana, a woman after my own heart," Gabriel’s voice snaps me out of my wicked thoughts as I spin around to look at him.
He is looking very handsome today, in a Navy-blue suit of finely tailored perfection.
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